


Yeah, I Slip; I'm Still an Animal

by WileyWendyMoore



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Atavism, Biting, Blood, Bodily Fluids, Consensual Violence, Hair-pulling, M/M, Rough Sex, Scenting, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WileyWendyMoore/pseuds/WileyWendyMoore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's got your dishevelled roommate so hot, bothered and literally glowing? Why pry when you can go find out for yourself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, I Slip; I'm Still an Animal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Culumacilinte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culumacilinte/gifts).



> I swore no one would be interested in this pairing, so for a year it languished in an old notebook. But! Culumacilinte and I had a lot of great discussions about jungle child!Vince, fae!Noel and the sort of feral ecstacy the Boosh lends itself to so well. I took the plunge and sent a second draft to Cully, and a brilliant beta-read later, I'd like to gift the final product to her. This is belated b-day gift part one; thanks for the encouragement, the visuals and of course, Bitter Resin and Salt!

Vince knew he was making Howard uncomfortable. He had been staring at him since he got back to the flat, back with a faint neon sheen over nearly half his face, and on his hands. His moustache looked like a stepped-on parakeet.

"So?!" Vince blurted out, as his curiosity hit its limit. Howard jumped violently and dropped his toast.

"So, what?" he responded, too casually. Too casually for someone retrieving their toast from the floor and tucking it under their arm like a pocketbook.

"So what's all over you?" He grinned and gestured to Howard's face and hands. "Have you been eating glowsticks?"

"It's highlighter! Lester and me and um, the boys, big intellectual night, reading, researching, sifting through tomes. You gain nothing _not_ highlighting information! In books!"

Vince's eyes narrowed as he grinned harder. Terrible liar.

"And then you _ate_ them? To gain their secret powers?"

Howard lifted his chin haughtily as he turned away. Vince snuggled into his blanket and enjoyed watching Howard take a bite of his toast, then spitting into the sink as he remembered it had been lodged in his armpit. Putting his most guileless face on, Vince taunted, "I think it's lipstick. Or body paint!" He feigned anger. "Howard! You went to a party without me! How'd you even get in without me? Can't believe it!" Vince was about to continue, when a glance at Howard's trousers made him stop and lean forward out of his blanket cocoon.

"Your cuffs are soaked! What is that even? Wee? Seawater? Really, Howard, where _were_ you?!"

He looked up, all wide eyes and a burning need to *know.* Howard's lips twitched. He blinked rapidly. He opened his mouth, closed it, and finally squawked, "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS," and then retreated to the bedroom with a slam of the door.

Vince shrugged to himself, hopped to his feet and went to dig in his wardrobe. What did one wear to a party in a swamp?

******

Vince waded ankle deep into the cool water of the small lake a few blocks away, in a little park he'd heard echoing with voices and laughter. The group of kids drinking there had smiled and offered Vince some of their libations, but reported no blacklight electro raves nearby.

"Oh, wait-there was this gangly freak all lit up like a Christmas tree, he stumbled out from the lake about an hour ago. Must've been a good one, he was off his tits."

Vince refrained from telling them Howard was always a bit like that, thanked them and picked his way down the trail to the shore. The water was fine and soothing on his bare legs, and he moved in deeper. After a sly glance around, Vince was just about to slip off the bright teal dress and have a swim when he heard a splash, someone emerging from the lake.

"Howard?" someone called.

"Uhhh, yes?" Vince responded, heartbeat quickening.

Now the splash came from behind, as webbed hands slid around Vince's waist. Green fingers splayed over his belly and chest as the fullest lips he'd ever felt pressed against his neck.

"Mmmyou just can't stay away, can you?"

Vince gulped and was about to respond when the exploring lips found his distinctly bare cheek. Their embrace tightened into a predator's grasp and the threatening whisper was a blade against Vince's ear.

"You're not Howard."

The mysterious captor twisted both of their bodies into the water, kicking for the cold depths of the lakebed. They were monstrously strong, but not much bigger than Vince, and he managed to wrench loose, and flailed to the shore. As Vince scrabbled onto the sand, his attacker caught up and grabbed his ankles. They flipped Vince onto his back and crawled up his body, giving no chance for struggle. His arms were pinned fast to his sides by the creature's thighs, and then the two were chest-to-chest as huge ocean blue eyes scanned Vince's face. They studied him with fury and hunger, but also curiosity. He rather felt he was giving the same look. Those lips. Bigger than life. Bigger than Rocky Horror, bigger than Amanda Lepore and Jesus. And pink, so neon pink! A sleek moustache arched neatly over the upper lip, and Vince had a brief image of Howard kissing his moustache right onto someone else's face.

They studied each other, two animals in a territorial dispute. Vince squeezed his eyes shut when it seemed like the lake-man was going for his throat, then squealed as they snuffled under his chin, around his throat, nose tickling behind his ears. They wove their fingers into Vince's hair and grasped, hard, as an urgent whisper warmed the shell of his ear.

"You _smell_ like Howard." They shifted, as if nervous. "Why? Why d'you smell so much like my Howard?"

Vince made his voice low and velvety, the voice he used in the jungle on predators susceptible to hypnotism. "He - I live with him. He's my mate, he's in my band."

The grip on Vince's hair relaxed, though their eyes stayed piercing.

"Oh. You. I've seen you."

Sitting back to appraise the human trapped between their legs, the merman announced, "I'm Old Gregg."

"I've…seen you, too."

Gregg brushed wet strands of hair back from Vince's face. "Have ya?" he said, with a hint of playful menace. His nails, claws, really, were sharp on Vince's cheek. Silver jacket, white tie, sequined pink tutu. Oodles of heavy jade kelp-hair. Blood hammered through Vince's veins, glitter scales and white shark teeth, sudden awareness of their crotches pressed together.

"S'like a…mermirror," Vince slurred. His awareness was so sharp at that moment, speaking felt clumsy. If Old Gregg was affected by Vince's erection twitching, he wasn't letting on. He just leaned in close, his body wet and delicious against Vince's.

"D'you love Howard?"

Vince could only nod. Lips so close.

"D'you love me?"

Now, now, NOW, Vince lunged and sank his teeth into Gregg's lower lip, and he had his predator disarmed. A shudder passed through Gregg's muscles, palpable on Vince's trapped arms. Slowly, Vince was able to extract them, and he tangled his fingers in Gregg's seaweed hair, stroking over that reliable, pacifying spot on the back of the neck. Blood flavored each gnashing kiss, and Vince moaned as Gregg raked his claws down his arms. The merman licked at Vince's jaw, then his throat, stopping now and then to bite - not gently. Vince's legs began to tremble, and he rocked himself upright, tightening his grasp. He cautiously stroked the side of Gregg's face with his free hand, found the thin slits of his gills and slipped his fingers into them. Vince smirked against Gregg's brow, making sure he could feel the pressure of his teeth saying, *I ain't scared of you.*

Gregg choked and twisted his head away from the invasive probing, but only trapped Vince's hand against his shoulder. They made brief eye contact, and Vince slyly twitched his fingers against the delicate, feathery organs. Gregg tried to scream, couldn't, and shoved away from Vince with a lunge that knocked them both backwards. The violence between them stilled, and they lifted themselves back up, both breathing heavily. Pupils dilated, shoulders quivering. Vince's lips were pulled back and he was fighting to remember what the word "Vince" even meant. Old Gregg eased a little closer, held out a webbed hand, and Vince laced his fingers against the thin membranes.

"You know what Old Gregg's got?"

"I can…I can _smell_ it," Vince slurred.

His mind was gone. He let Gregg take his hand and guide it beneath the tutu. Vince squeezing and stroking scaled viridian thighs strong enough to crush a man's skull. His thick fingers probed at the crease of Gregg's thigh, playing with the weave of his stockings until he couldn't stand it and ripped them in half. Gregg snarled and scraped Vince's dress up to his waist, pressing himself against the weird mammalian heat.

Vince pressed his face into the mass of seaweed hair and breathed deeply as he rubbed between Gregg's thighs in long, hard sweeps. He let some strands fall into his mouth, gently drowning.

He saw shining reefs of winding coral in marbled sunlight. He saw a million baby seahorses bursting from their father's pouch in a glittering cloud. He was tiny and aquatic, swimming through endless forests of kelp, tickled by feathery polyps as he glided by.

He was a clownfish, safe in the fluttering folds of an anenome. Unharmed by its sting, protected by it. Eternal safety of intense pastel caressing, swimming, swimming, then trapped suddenly, muscles squeezing slickly around searching fingers. 

Vince nuzzled his face into Gregg's throat, biting and licking. He felt a thin, salty film began to build around his mouth, and remembered Howard's glowing face and fingers. Old Gregg was eagerly tearing away Vince's pants, and when the two parted to change positions, Vince was nearly blinded by the brilliant column of light. Now his fingers were also covered in phosphorescent arousal, and he felt giddy as he stuck them in his mouth. Gregg seemed to approve, watching with a grin as he stroked Vince's erection quicker, rougher, than a human should enjoy.

"Down," Gregg snarled. He shoved Vince back into the water and straddled his leg, then resumed his choking grip on Vince's cock.

"T-too hard," Vince gasped, receiving a nasty pinch on his scrotum for his protest.

"Too bad," Gregg hissed, squeezing, twisting. He ground his glowing sex back and forth on Vince's thigh, raking fingers through his own hair, licking his lips. Vince was silent, mindless and gasping. Everything was neon shapes and icy buzzing, lightning from the waist down.

"Come on…I caught you…gimme what I want," Gregg urged, close as he could get to Vince's face without breaking their rhythm. "Give it to me, you know what I want…"

And Vince was howling, coming like the tide. Gregg clung to him, sharing the aggressive waves, encouraging them. He milked Vince's cock of every last drop of come, and then a bit more, until Vince lifted trembling hands and uttered a small cry.

The crackling pressure in the air dissipated and Vince felt awkward, heavy, *human* again. Shy. His thigh was slippery with his own jissom and Gregg's phosphorescent fluids, and he was compelled to swipe his fingers through and taste them together. Old Gregg rolled off, and leaned on his elbow over Vince. He looked down at the recovering man, watching him suck his fingers.

"Y'like that? All warm, wet…"

Vince nodded, stalling a bit. He had found his speech, but it was too fast, he didn't know what to say.

"…I grew up in a jungle," he finally said. "I could…can talk to animals." He shrugged and nodded his head at Gregg to punctuate the relevance.

Gregg narrowed his eyes at Vince, but smiled. Devilishly, "You and Howard?"

"Nah, he don't like me that way."

Gregg's expression grew wry, conspiratorial.

"I bet he likes you. Bet you could _make_ him like you." He returned Vince's look of significance, but with more teeth showing.

The subject of Howard dropped, and the two were just still, the air and water cooling, centering. Vince pushed himself up, squeezing excess water from his hair. Gregg caught his arm as he moved to stand.

"Come see me again?"

Those incredible eyes held promises of more animal satisfaction, promise of a much-needed release. Vince wasn't the mythical hybrid Gregg was, but he wasn't really a human either. It would be nice, he thought, to let Vince go now and then. Nice to be nameless, just the rays of sun glittering through the ocean.

"Yeah. Alright."

Gregg licked Vince's calves and pulled the hem of his teal dress back down his thighs. Vince opened his mouth, wanted to say more about Howard, but Gregg was already gone. Ripples and a faint glow pooled around Vince's ankles, and he found he couldn't face home right now. He wiped the blood from his lips, crafted enough half-truths to fend off questions, and went to see if the kids he had passed were still in the park. If he could have a drink and dry off a bit, maybe he could face Howard with glowing hands and thighs.


End file.
